


Memories That Haunt

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, HP: EWE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5834710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can Draco ever stop hearing Granger scream? The sound still haunted him even four years after the Battle of Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Granger screaming.

That was the sound that haunted and tortured him, followed him, giving him no reprieve from her agony. The only time it had been faded was when he heard the terrified screams of his classmates on the day of the Battle.

But her screams were always there, always a constant presence. As was the memory of her lying beaten and bloody on the floor of Malfoy Manor as his… as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her in front of his eyes.

Even four years later he could still see it, still felt his disgust that he hadn’t stopped it from happening. He had tried to make what little amends that he could since, but it would never be enough. Never be enough for her to forgive him, to see him as anything more than the Slytherin coward that he was.

*****

“You are coming over tonight. No excuses.” Harry said decidedly, pacing into Draco’s office. Memos and ordinances mingled on the blond man’s desk, awaiting their fates as Draco glanced at the Auror.

“Don’t think I will, Potter.” Draco grinned, barely, as it resembled his sneer quite a bit but without the sarcasm or anger burning behind his eyes.

“It’s Teddy’s fifth birthday. You are coming.” Harry crossed his arms. “Ginny won’t take no for an answer.”

Draco stood, and sent off some reports out of the office door, the paper airplanes whooshing off to the other department heads. “I’ve already sent my gift. And I’m not afraid of Weaslette.”

“Really? I dare you to call her that to her face. Especially now that she’s pregnant.” Harry laughed and grinned with pride.

Draco would never tell Harry – or anyone for that matter – that Ginny Potter, nee Weasley, did in fact scare the piss out of him. She took after her mother in that regard; both of them were very formidable women. Sighing, Draco agreed to join the birthday festivities. “Fine, but I’m only going for a few minutes and I refuse to speak with anyone.”

He still doubted they would wish to speak with him.

*****

Hermione applied the final swipe of icing on little Teddy’s cake with great enthusiasm. Well, as much as she could fake at the moment. While she enjoyed using magic for almost everything, there were some things, like baking and icing a cake, that seemed more fulfilling doing it the muggle way.

Today was not that day however. Today she was merely wasting time in the kitchen at Harry and Ginny’s home in an attempt to avoid a certain guest that was to arrive at any moment. At least according to Ginny, who had heard it from Harry, who had gotten it straight from the hippogriffs beak.

Draco Malfoy was to join the party.

It was still difficult to face some things after all that had happened during those years at Hogwarts. Too many faces, pale and lifeless, imprinted on her mind. Too many tears shed over friends they all had lost. The memory of an enemy-who-wasn’t who had been stripped of all his confidence, beaten and scarred by those who had made so many wrong choices, leaving him with nothing but difficult ones. The young man who had been forced into killing a beloved teacher and friend, but hadn’t. The same young man who had started to raise his wand to defend a mudblood against his own aunt.

Hermione lightly stroked the scar that would forever be carved onto her forearm.

Yes, some things were still difficult to face.

From the living room she heard Ginny shout out, “Time for the cake, Hermione!”

Shaking herself free of her tendency to overthink, she lifted the cake by hand and backed out through the swinging kitchen door. She turned to the room, smiling widely, only to pause mid-stride as her gaze met a set of silver eyes across the room. She swallowed.

*****

The cake was served and presents were opened. Wine was poured as congratulations were given. The whole of the Weasley’s were there, minus the one who would never be again, as were several others that Draco only knew by face, never having gotten up the courage to speak with them.

Then there was Ron, who had refused to do anything more than glare at him for the past four years. That should have been enough to prompt Draco into leaving, but Ginny grabbed his arm and told him, “If you leave before I allow you to, I will continue to hex you until this child of mine graduates Hogwarts. Are we clear?”

She would do it too, he knew.

He sat outside, listening to the party loudly commencing inside, patiently waiting until he could escape. It was a warm night and the stars winked down at him through the sparse amount of clouds overhead.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize that anyone else was out here.”

Draco jumped up, and turned. Granger stood by the back door, trying to look anywhere but at him. Her hand reached for the door handle, when he spoke. “No. You don’t have to go. Stay. I was just about to leave anyways.”

Her brown eyes finally met his. “Already? But… you just got here.”

“Yes. But being the pariah at a child’s party isn’t my idea of a fun evening.” Draco spoke evenly, giving no indication as to whether he was joking or not.

“Right. Of course.” Hermione bit her lip. They stood there, not speaking for what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few seconds before she asked. “How… how is your mother?”

His eyebrows raised slightly. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Granger was always one for being polite, even to him. He didn’t deserve it. “Mother’s well. Especially now that Father is dead. Azkaban didn’t suit him apparently.”

“I had heard.” She wouldn’t offer him her condolences, not over Lucius Malfoy. Changing the subject, she grinned a little. “That was a wonderful gift you got Teddy.”

It had been a rare, illustrated first edition of _Winnie the Pooh_ which had delighted the boy and surprised Hermione.

“Yes well, the man at the shop said that all of his children enjoyed it, so I just…” Draco raked his blond hair back, uncomfortable about explaining how he tended to frequent muggle book stores, especially to this witch. “It was nothing really.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” the corners of her mouth lifted a fraction as she turned back to go inside. Before she did, she looked back at him, her brown wavey hair falling off her shoulders. “It was… nice to see you, Malfoy.”

*****

_It was nice to see you, Malfoy._ Two days later those words flittered about his head, pushing the screams to the background. He emptied his inbox and went through his typical work day inside the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. If anyone had told him in his first year of Hogwarts that this is where he would end up working he would have cursed them, and then told his father about it.

But with the damage the war had left, the damage he had caused, he was lucky to have found any position within the Ministry at all. Only Harry’s testimony that Draco had been forced to do what he had, that he wasn’t what they all thought, had been enough to convince Arthur Weasley and other higher ups to give him this shot. He honestly hadn’t been thrilled taking it, but the alternative would have been worse.

He would not have done well in Azkaban.

Someone lightly rapped on his office door. When he was this overloaded with paperwork he tended to leave the door shut to focus. “Enter,” he called out, not glancing to see who was standing in the doorframe.

Hermione stepped inside, and took a minute to study him. He sat haunched over in his chair, glaring at the papers spread out in front of him. His green tie was loosened and the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and she caught a brief glimpse of the Mark that was now scarred into his arm.

She hadn’t realized that it was in the same spot that hers was.

She blinked, trying to focus on the moment and not on a painful past. “You shouldn’t stress so, Malfoy. You’ll get wrinkles frowning like that.”

“Granger?” Draco’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Quickly, he rolled down his sleeves to cover up the mark that lingered there and buttoned the cuffs. He stood, walking around his desk to greet her. He asked as calmly as he could. “What brings you by?”

“You left this the other night. I thought you might be needing it.” She held out a black suit jacket, identical to the one that hung over the back of his chair. He reached for it.

As he grabbed it, his long graceful fingers brushed hers. Hermione’s breath caught at the static shock that shot between them. It’s just static friction from the coat, she thought, nothing more.

Then why was her heart now beating as fast as it would after riding Buckbeak?

“Thanks. I should have gone back for it. You really needn’t have bothered bringing it. I take it that Weasle-bee is somewhere waiting for you?” Draco asked mildly, though using one of his favorite insults for the freckle-faced ginger.

“I offered to drop it off actually. Ginny’s got incredibly horrible morning sickness, and Harry’s off on a job out of the country.” She frowned as she continued. “As for Ron, the party was the first time in over a year that we’ve even been in the same room.”

Draco frowned. “Really? I would have sworn that you two would be married by now, with little ginger rugrats of your own on the way.”

Inside Hermione’s overactive mind she immediately pictured three little children, two boys and a girl playing with their father. While one of the boys had her untamed brown curls, what shocked her was the other boy and the girl had straight white blonde hair. And the happy father playing with them?

Draco.

Her breath caught. Clearly, she was having some type of latent PTSD. Though it wasn’t one that she had ever before encountered, in either the wizarding world or the muggle one.

_Focus, Hermione. Focus!_

“We didn’t work out. After the war we tried to make it work, but we quickly realized that what we had felt was only heightened because of what we had gone through during the war.” Hermione moved to sit on the small couch against the wall. “Plus, it was difficult for Ron. I started to see things in ways Ron wasn’t understanding. Forgiving people that he didn’t think I should.”

Like how she tried to explain that she knew Draco hadn’t had a choice during the war.That she had forgiven his actions at Malfoy Manor. Ron only could hold onto the horrible things he believed happened. He couldn’t find a way to let it go.

Draco swallowed and moved to sit on the couch beside her. Maintaining a small amount of distance between them, he said quietly. “Perhaps some people don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“Depends on the person, and why they would need forgiving.” Taking his hand, Hermione looked him in the eyes.

“What if the person you need to forgive, is yourself? What if you know that no matter how much, or how sincerely you apologize, nothing can ever erase what happened?” Draco asked. Taking her left wrist, he pushed up her own sleeve, exposing the damage his aunt had wrought. He outlined it with the tip of his forefinger lightly, a deep sadness pulling at his face.

“It wasn’t your fault Draco.” With the barest touch on his chin, Hermione forced him to look her in the eyes. Her heart raced wildly. How had she not known his touch could be so soft, and evoke such a reaction within her? “I saw you, even while she was… I saw you. You had your wand raised at her.”

He hadn’t known that she had seen him do that. He continued to outline the letters on her arm, wishing beyond anything that he could somehow erase them. “Yes, but I should have cursed her the second I saw what she was doing to you. But I was a coward.”

“You were protecting your mother. And trying not to be killed yourself.”

His eyes met hers. How had he never noticed how beautiful her honey-brown eyes were before? He couldn’t believe or comprehend that she could truly see what he had gone through. True, Harry had probably told her everything that Draco had told him, but Granger just seemed to get it.

No wonder she was still the Brightest Witch of their age.

“Hey, Malfoy. I need that report on the enchanted golf clubs out of Essex…Oh sorry. Didn’t realize that you had company.” A wizard said sheepishly from the office door.

It took them several seconds before they broke eye contact. Finally Hermione stood, saying. “I was just leaving. I’ll see you later, Malfoy.”

Without glancing back, she left him alone sitting on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione wandered aimlessly into the bookshop. She needed nothing other than to be immersed and surrounded and comforted by the pages and spines lining the shelves. The smell of paper and ink and magic filled the air; not the kind of magic that she discovered when she was eleven. No, the magic that was found between the pages of each book was far more precious.

She took her time browsing the aisles, scanning the spines, her fingers itching to discover something wonderful when she heard a smooth voice at the end of the aisle speak. “Granger?”

Hermione’s head swiveled, her brown waves securely tied up with a French twist. With confusion, she said. “Malfoy? Why are you here?” She took a step closer and lowered her voice. “This is a _muggle_ bookshop.”

Draco grinned and nodded. “Why, so it is. Why do you look so worried? Afraid they will kick us out if they find out we aren’t muggles?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just surprised to find _you_ in here. I didn’t know you could read.” Hermione snapped, crossing her arms. Yes, much better to get on the offensive early on. She had worried over how their last conversation had gone down. How it hadn’t even seemed to happen between the two of them, the Princess of Gryffindor and the Slytherin Prince.

Draco smirked, recalling those exact words he had once said to Goyle back in year two at Hogwarts. He crossed his own arms and leaned casually against the shelf beside him. “Indeed I can, Granger. I was the poor sod who had to read all the articles of the Golden Trio out loud every night to those poorly educated Slytherin’s. Then they would know how to tease you the next day. It was quite the chore to be honest.”

Her lip quirked up. She knew he was joking. At least she hoped he was. Some of the Slytherin’s had been known for receiving T’s back in school. “I’m so sorry that our exploits were such an inconvenience to you back then.”

“Back then? Hell a few of them still want me to read to them.” Draco laughed finally.

Hermione’s breath caught. How had she never noticed his smile before? Probably because he was always either sneering or frowning, she thought. Her heart started racing again. She swallowed, trying to calm her sudden case of nerves. “So what really brings you here, Malfoy?”

“I enjoy the books.” He said simply.

“Really?” Incredulous, Hermione raised a brow. “Just ‘you enjoy the books’?”

“Honestly?” he asked. Hermione nodded. “I found they help me escape for a little while. Books. They’re quite magical in that way. Even the foolish muggle ones.”

Hermione just stared up at him, eyes wide. Hearing him voice her own thoughts on books wasn’t something she expected. Not from Draco Malfoy.

“Right. Well I have to go.” Hermione attempted to walk past him to head for the door. He caught her arm stopping her in her tracks.

“Hermione, wait. I’m sorry if I somehow offended you. I honestly didn’t mean to this time.” He spoke quietly. They stood so close to each other, his breath was next to her cheek. If she turned her head slightly her lips would be almost level with his.

She didn’t turn her head. Hermione only said, “You didn’t. I just have to go.”

He released his hold on her arm and watched as she merged with the London crowd outside.

*****

Days later, Draco was still thinking about the last conversation with Granger… with Hermione. He didn’t know how or when it had happened, but somehow he had stopped seeing her as merely Potter’s friend, one of the Golden Trio, a Mudblood.

The more he was around her the less he heard her screams. When he was beside her, as he had been in the shop, the soul wrenching sound was gone, leaving behind complete silence.

After the Battle, he had vowed never to see Granger again. He had thought that avoidance was the solution to escaping the memories that followed him. But he’d been wrong. The longer he was around her new visions replaced the old. How her eyes flashed when she was teasing him, how her smile was always unexpected but worth every second, how her breath caught when he had taken her arm.

She hadn’t been afraid of him, that was certain. She would have cursed him there in the store if she had been, witnesses or not. No, her breath had caught for another reason, one he desperately wished she’d reveal.

He looked out the open window of his small apartment to Diagon Alley below. It was coming close to a new school term, young witches and wizards flocked the tiny street with their parents in preparation of the coming year. He missed the time when he had been excited about going to the magic school, back when everything had been uncomplicated.

Looking up Draco spotted a large barn owl heading his way. It landed on a table next to the window, holding out its leg expectantly. Draco untied the package, and the owl flew back through the window. Opening the wrapping, Draco frowned in confusion. It was a book, _Pride & Prejudice_. Turning the cover of the hardback open, a small note fell out written in a delicate feminine hand.

_\- This had always been one of my ‘escape’ books. I hope you can escape with it as well. - H._

Of course she wouldn’t have written inside the book, Draco grinned. It might have damaged it. Sitting in the leather armchair next to the hearth he began to read…

*****

Hermione glanced at her alarm clock on the nightstand beside her. 4 am. “Who the hell is knocking on my door at four bloody A.M.?” she grumbled, throwing on her robe. The bunny slippers she wore shuffled and smacked against the floor as she made for the front door. She groaned as she recognized the platinum blond hair through the peephole.

Cracking open the door, she shot him a bleary-eyed glare but gestured to come inside anyway. “Is there something I can do for you, Malfoy? This had better be an emergency.”

He stepped inside her small muggle apartment, taking a cursory glance around. Later he was sure that he would be curious, but for now he had other things on his mind.

“Well, Malfoy?”

“That book you gave me. That Darcy was a pontz. As soon as he felt that he was falling in love with her he should have just shown her, instead of waiting. It’s what I would have done.” Draco glared at her. Her hair was completely wild, springing in every direction possible. His fingers itched to tame it down.

“Well, you aren’t Darcy. I’m so glad you decided to drop by at four in the bloody morning to tell me that. Was there anything else?” Hermione grinned.

“Yes, actually.” Deciding that it was best to show her, Draco reached for her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Gazing down at her, he paused a moment giving her the chance to push him away. She didn’t.

His lips covered hers, softly at first. He angled his head deepening the kiss. Hermione stood on her toes, meeting him, looping her arms around his neck. _Finally,_ the word ran through both of their minds as all else dropped away. Draco’s heart was racing, shocked that she, that Hermione was kissing him back.

Hermione felt like she was levitating, her heart felt so light. Then the small part of her brain that was still functioning, clued her into the fact that she was hovering over the ground. Draco had lifted her off the ground. She leaned back from the kiss. “Draco?”

“Yes, Granger?” Draco smiled, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

“Is this your way of saying that you’re falling for me?”

“Well, that would be quite a foolish thing for me to do,” he whispered before kissing her again.

*****

Hours later Hermione woke with a start, Draco was screaming beside her. Sweat covered his brow, and his complexion was ashen. The look of sheer terror on his sleeping face ripped at her heart.

“Don’t… Don’t hurt her… Stop…” he turned restlessly in Hermione’s bed as the nightmare continued to torture him.

“Draco.” Hermione whispered, and placed a hand on his chest. His movements didn’t stop. Cupping his face she lightly kissed him, and said, “Draco, wake up. It’s just a dream. Wake up.”

He did wake but not the way she expected. One second her lips were pressed against his and the next she was on her back and his hands were on her throat. “ _Draco…stop…”_

“Hermione?” His grip on her throat was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Dread masked his face as he backed away from the bed and her. “What have I done?”

She watched as he began to dress. He avoided her gaze, as he said. “I’m sorry.”

“What was the dream, Draco?” Hermione sat up in the bed, pulling the comforter to her chest. He glanced at her then. He looked ashamed. “Talk to me.”

He clutched at his shirt, frozen to the spot. After several seconds, he said. “That night. When Bellatrix was hurting you.”

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. Hermione frowned. He had nightmares of that night? She had them herself, but she had had her friends to talk to about it. Hermione didn’t think that Draco had ever voiced what was going through his mind. Standing, she went over to him. She cupped his face. “Draco. I _do_ forgive you. I told you before. It wasn’t your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened.”

He held her for a brief moment. He doubted that he would ever stop punishing himself. “You’re too good for me, Hermione.”

“That’s not what this is about, Draco. Not between us. It’s not good versus evil, or Slytherin against Gryffindor.” Hermione took a deep breath, and said. “It’s about two people falling in love.”

“Two?” Draco leaned back, surprised.

“Two.” Hermione smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!  
> Still not JK Rowling


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